


How Friends Kiss

by perverbially



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/F, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perverbially/pseuds/perverbially
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Friends who kiss each other on the lips. I see."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Friends Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Just another bit of fluff from that one pairing I can't leave alone =)

"Adrian Andrews! Where is your drinks cabinet?"

Adrian, sprawled gracelessly over the arm of her living room sofa, forces heavy eyes open to see Franziska von Karma leaning over her, cool, businesslike gaze contrasting quite bizarrely with the backdrop provided by her wine-reddened cheeks.

"I don't have a drinks cabinet, Franziska," she replies, chuckling. Franziska's eyebrows rise testily, clearly finding this response lacking, prompting Adrian to offer feebly, "...I do have a refrigerator, though? I think there might be some wine left over from the other night... oh, but you didn't like that, did you...?"

"I defy anyone to like something that could quite easily serve as a substitute for drain cleaner," Franziska retorts, but she turns on her heel, wending off towards the kitchen on legs that are only just beginning to defy her usual level of control. "But I suppose it will have to do."

Adrian closes her eyes as she listens to Franziska navigating her apartment, her movements easily traceable by way of the irritable muttering in German that accompanies them. Adrian's head is already swimming - she's glad she made it back home, as sleep is beginning to feel like an imminent certainty, whether she wants it or not - but she forces her body upright when Franziska reappears, pushing her glasses upwards into her hair and resting her chin in the heel of her palm. Franziska appraises her slumped form as she sets the glasses out, snorting when Adrian stifles a long, exhausted yawn behind her hand.

"Tired, are we?" she asks, an arched brow quirking with amusement. "I suppose fending off the attentions of your many admirers must be more wearing than it looks."

"They were _your_ admirers, actually," Adrian points out, smiling fondly when Franziska wrinkles her nose, settling herself in the armchair beside Adrian. "I think I was just subject to the effects of your reflected aura, if anything."

"'Reflected aura'?" Franziska repeats doubtfully, but the look she gives Adrian now is as much mollified as it is cynical. She takes a sip of wine, mouth twisting in disgust. "I think you underestimate yourself, Adrian Andrews. It was not me Will Powers was gazing wistfully at all evening, after all."

Adrian chuckles. "Will? Oh, no. He's lovely, but I'm quite sure he doesn't _like_ me - not anymore, at least."

"Is that right?" Franziska tuts, pursing her lips as she fixes Adrian with challenging eyes. "Perhaps someone should tell his foolishly wandering hands that, then."

"What - ? His hands were doing nothing of the sort!" Adrian protests, stifling a burst of shocked laughter. "I was helping the poor man stay upright!"

"I don't think that's how he saw the situation," Franziska says lightly. "As was painfully evident in the kiss he gave you goodnight."

"He's in television, Franziska. That's what we - well, _they_ \- do."

"Even Mr. Powers?" Franziska leans back, crossing one leg over the other and eyeing Adrian sceptically over her glass. "Hmm. If you say so. Although he never particularly struck me as the stereotypical television industry type..."

"Well, perhaps not," Adrian concedes, biting her lip against a sheepish grin. "But I really don't think there's any more to it than that. Not with _Will_. He's very much the gentleman."

"I'm sure he is. The _gentleman_, to be specific, who kissed you for near enough five full seconds."

"He did not - !" Adrian is unable to keep from laughing helplessly now, her already warm cheeks positively glowing; Franziska's unwilling little chuckles join her own, and it is several pleasant moments before Adrian has regained enough composure to realise what Franziska has just admitted. Still breathless, and unable to wipe the bemused smile from her face, she catches Franziska's eye. "Wait a moment - why were you even counting?"

"I was waiting for you," Franziska says promptly. "And it's in my nature to notice details others don't."

"Such as?"

"Such as... car license plates, for example."

"I think noticing car license plates is a little different from watching people kiss," Adrian teases warmly.

"If I was _watching_, Adrian Andrews, it was merely because Will Powers is rather difficult to miss. Particularly when he's making such a fool of himself in public." Shifting in her seat, Franziska tuts again, scowling down into her glass. Adrian feels her smile fade slightly, good humour all at once succumbing to an unexpected twist of guilt.

"I was only joking, Franziska. I just wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea about Will. He's a very kind man, but we're just friends, really."

"Friends who kiss each other on the lips. I see."

"Now, in his defence, I think he was aiming for my cheek."

"Of course he was." Franziska rolls her eyes. "You really are incorrigibly naive sometimes, Adrian. Friends do not kiss each other like that."

"Oh, come now, you're telling me you don't kiss your friends, even as a greeting?"

"I've never kissed anyone," Franziska states matter-of-factly, shrugging.

Adrian blinks for a moment. "But - _never?_"

Franziska shakes her head, and Adrian sees irritation flicker briefly at the corners of her mouth, a characteristic little disgruntled curl of her lip. "You act like it's something to be ashamed of."

"Of course not!" Adrian protests earnestly, and she means it. "It's just - well, it's just quite unbelievable, really. You're - that is, you - _well._" She pauses, feeling her cheeks tingle with a shamefully telling rush of blood. Franziska tilts her head, and Adrian cannot decide whether her shadowed eyes betray curiosity or an ever deepening level of cynicism.

"I'm _what_, exactly, Adrian Andrews?"

Adrian licks her lips anxiously, glad she has her glasses pushed up - if she could see Franziska's face properly, she is sure the words she plans to say next would die in her throat. "Well... you're beautiful, aren't you? Surely you know that. I just find it hard to believe that you've never kissed anyone."

"Of course I know that," Franziska says, but even as her tone is haughty, verging on brusque, Adrian detects a shift in the set of her jaw that she can't help but decide requires further investigation. Sitting up straighter, replacing her glasses, Adrian rests her chin back on her hand and raises a questioning eyebrow, waiting for the younger woman to elaborate. "I've just never had the inclination, or the time, I suppose," Franziska continues, dropping thoughtful eyes back to her glass. "That is to say, for a relationship. Not to mention the fact that I've met very few people I would even entertain the concept of kissing. It doesn't look particularly... _pleasant_."

"It often isn't," Adrian agrees, far more bitterly than she would have preferred; she registers another uncomfortable pang of guilt for letting her own bad experiences cloud her response when Franziska frowns, eyes still on her wine. "But... it can be," she clarifies quickly, and Franziska looks up, raising an eyebrow. "It can be lovely. It very much depends on the people, and the situation."

"I don't need you to explain this to me, Adrian Andrews. I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't," Adrian assures her, with a small, embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was claiming to be an expert on the matter. Quite the opposite, in fact..."

Franziska nods stiffly, in what Adrian takes to be a mute acceptance of her apology. She watches quietly as Franziska leans forward, refilling both of their glasses.

"I think I'd like _you_ to kiss me," Franziska says abruptly.

"I - _what?_"

As soon as the words leave her lips, she wishes with all her heart that they hadn't. Franziska blanches visibly, humiliated eyes narrowing to a grimace, looking for all the world as though Adrian has physically struck her. Adrian shakes her head jerkily, putting a hand to her mouth. "Oh no, no, I didn't mean - it's just - _why?_"

For a long, tense moment, she thinks Franziska isn't going to reply - that she is going to make her excuses and leave, or whip her, or both. She can't help but feel she thoroughly _deserves_ both for responding so unthinkingly.

"I don't like the thought of there being something I have no experience of," Franziska says eventually. Adrian's eyes widen at this uncharacteristically frank display of vulnerability, an admittance of anything other than complete self-assurance; Franziska herself looks faintly surprised at the words that have come from her own mouth, and she quickly rearranges her features, settling her lips into a familiar, nonchalant little smirk that fails spectacularly at deceiving either of them. "Even if it does seem to be a rather disgustingly crude, _foolish_ something."

Adrian takes as much time as she dares to compose her reply, gazing into the depths of her wine awkwardly. "I don't know if that's quite the right reason to kiss someone, Franziska," she says gently, when she has measured her response as much as is humanly possible in her inebriated state. "You should wait until you've found someone you really _want_ to kiss."

"Did I not just say that I want to kiss _you_?" Franziska snaps, and then she stops, just _stops_ as another flush of pink smudges itself across her cheeks, clearly realising the ramifications of what she has just said. "I mean, you're - I don't have - don't presume to tell me what I do and do not want, Adrian Andrews!"

"I just want you to be sure," Adrian replies, all too aware that she is rapidly losing the battle against the uncontrollable blush running wild across her own face. "As I said, I don't pretend to be an expert, and I really do think that you deserve... well, better."

"Better than my closest friend? Please. I wouldn't trust any fool with this matter," Franziska says dismissively, adopting a dispassionately airy tone that sits oddly against her refusal to meet Adrian's eyes directly. "Besides, you... you're very hygienic. And... well, I suppose I would say you have an attractively-shaped mouth, and your teeth are as close to perfect as I have found in anyone but myself, if a little unnaturally white, but then I have come to expect that of Americans - "

"Franziska," Adrian interjects, struggling to keep the pathetically flattered smile tugging at her lips under control. "It's fine. You don't need to... it's fine, honestly. If you're sure... if this is what you want... then, well, I would like to help."

She raises a hand to Franziska, gesturing for her to come and sit beside her. Franziska only hesitates for a moment, masking her uncertainty easily in the action of placing her glass carefully back on the coffee table, before moving to the sofa. Adrian shifts sideways as the other woman sits down, folding a leg underneath her body and turning to face Franziska. It only becomes real when they are suddenly, irrevocably, face to face, Franziska's knee nudging her own, close enough together that she can smell the wine on Franziska's breath. Doubt hits her like a punch in the gut.

"Franziska, are you really certain - ?"

"Adrian Andrews," Franziska mutters hoarsely, apparently attempting to affect her most commanding tone. "Just do it, or so help me God - " Her terse admonishments cease at once when Adrian puts a hand to her face; Franziska lets out a low, shaky breath as tentative fingers draw a path along her cheekbone. Adrian can't help hesitating one final time - _(is this too much?)_ \- but her fears are assuaged with the self-conscious raising of Franziska's own hand, reaching up to cover Adrian's fingers on her cheek. She feels Franziska's jaw tense under her palm, some kind of internal battle visible in the taut furrow of her brow, and the only thing Adrian can think to do to quell it is to fulfill Franziska's request.

And so she kisses her.

She expects the pause, the complete, stunned stillness that follows. What she doesn't expect is for Franziska to thaw just as quickly, for the forbidding set of her lips to break so perfectly under hers. She doesn't plan for the way Franziska tangles a hand boldly in her hair, the movement somehow heavy with the weight of practise, as though maybe - just _maybe_ \- Franziska has been wanting to do such a thing for some time.

Adrian is lightheaded by the time she forces herself to disengage, having stopped breathing properly some time around the point at which she realised she wasn't kissing Franziska so much as Franziska was kissing _her_. Her glasses are pushed up awkwardly against the bridge of her nose, and she leans back against the sofa arm, adjusting them with one unsteady hand.

"Well, that was - "

She is interrupted by the clatter of glass hitting wooden floorboards; it takes her a split second to realise that her own wayward elbow is the culprit, a further second to begin apologising profusely, and another confused moment to register the fact that Franziska is actually, of all the reactions she could have chosen, _laughing_.

"It's not usually considered an encouraging sign when someone laughs hysterically after you've kissed them," Adrian points out weakly, sighing as she drops from the sofa to the floor, attempting to localise the mess she has unwittingly caused into one place. Franziska, still laughing breathlessly, shifts carefully to kneel beside her, batting Adrian's hands away from the broken glass in favour of her own gloved ones.

"Tell me, Adrian Andrews," Franziska says, when her mirth has died down, and the remnants of the glass are stacked up within the confines of the puddle of wine. "Is _that_ how friends usually kiss?"

Adrian looks up at her. The younger woman has her face turned away, still looking down at the shards of Adrian's ruined glass, but she sees the curve of a smile at the corner of her mouth; small, but somehow knowing.

"I would have to say no, Franziska. Definitely not."


End file.
